Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
by liviafan1
Summary: Two-shot sequel of sorts to "Dissolution". COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Takes place roughly four months from where "Dissolution" left off (AKA Divorcefic). It's not necessary to read that first (it's a big ball of angst, but it ends well), but it would help. If you decide not to read it, all you really need to know is that Castle and Beckett are married and went through a really rough patch a few months ago and almost divorced.**

* * *

She licks the cookie dough from her finger, humming softly in tune to the music that reverberates from the small CD player she plugged into the counter.

She smiles at the memory of the look on his face when she dragged it out of her closet for the first time and lifted it onto the counter.

"You know I have a perfectly adequate, _new_ stereo," he said, looking at her small boombox with mild distaste.

She flicked him on the shoulder, pursing her lips. "I know, but I've been using this one for the last ten years-"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Ten years? Is that all?"

She huffed out a breath, shaking her head at him. "It's perfect for the kitchen. And since it's old, I don't have to worry about anything happening to it," she pointed out.

He ran a digit over the dusty speakers. "Does this thing even play more than one CD at a time?"

She let out a disbelieving laugh, perching her hands on her hips defensively. He laughed, eyes sparkling before pressing a smooth kiss to her lips.

She can't believe how quickly the time has gone by since then. How much has changed. How much has stayed the same.

She came so close to spending Christmas alone again, like she had before they married.

Well, before they started dating, really.

She was used to it then, nothing but a black-and-white movie marathon and a Charlie Brown Christmas tree thrown in the corner. And sure, she and her Dad spent Christmas Day together, but it always seemed to...fall short. As if they could hear the echo of her mother's laugh around the corner, always out of reach.

And after spending a couple of Christmases with him, she can't imagine ever going back to that life.

She swallows the bile rising in her throat, shaking the thoughts from her head. It's been four months since that night her whole world came crashing down around her, since he spoke those words.

_I want a divorce._

But now-

Well, they've never been stronger. Thank God.

She runs a few of the utensils under the faucet, waiting for the oven to warm. She leaves the bowl on the island, knows he'll slip in with a pout on his face if he misses his chance at licking the bowl.

The wooden spoon she holds falls to the bottom of the sink with a loud thump as she startles at the feel of a large pair of warm hands spanning her waist.

He lets out a breathless laugh. "Sorry," he murmurs apologetically.

Once the pounding of her heart fades into a dull thud, she smiles, shaking her head. "Not your fault. Music's on and I'm lost in my head. Didn't hear you come in."

She shuts the water off and wipes her hands on a nearby towel before turning in his arms.

"Hey," she says softly, a smile blooming across her face at the sight of him, eyes bright, mouth curved into a loving grin.

"Hey yourself," he replies, leaning into her to steal a soft kiss. "Mmm," he mumbles into her mouth, swiping his tongue across her lips, "You taste like cookies."

Her grin is toothy against his lips as she slides her hands up his chest, relishing the warm flannel beneath her wandering fingers. "Saved you the bowl," she says, her mouth sliding across his chin before letting her forehead rest against his cheek.

He groans, a deep rumble that travels through her body. "Too good to me," he says gruffly.

She nudges her nose against his. "Never."

She pats his chest once before reaching around him to grab the bowl. He takes a step back, rests his back against the counter and pulls her into the vee of his legs.

"How was your meeting?" she asks, swiping her index finger through the leftover dough, lifting it to his mouth.

He shrugs, wrapping his hand around her wrist as he grazes his teeth over her skin, licking the sweet treat from her finger. "Went fine. Same as usual. More publicity, more signings. The works."

She nods thoughtfully. "Are they asking for anything internationally?"

He hesitates. "They want a month for Europe. But I said no way."

She tugs her lip between her teeth. "You sure?"

"They want me to leave on the 26th. Our first Christmas together since-" he breaks off, swallowing hard. The pain flashes in his eyes, doesn't linger, but she can't help the way it tugs on her heart.

She cards her fingers through his hair, nudges his mouth to hers again. She closes her eyes, exhales against his lips, gives them a moment. "I know," she says quietly, soothing the ache in her chest with the brush of his mouth. "I love you," she reminds him.

He told her a couple of months ago that he didn't need the words to reassure him that they were okay, more than okay, but she can't help but use them, yearns to apply them like a balm to their wounded hearts.

His palms are warm at her hips, slipping under her apron and purple sweater to glide across her skin. "I love you, too," he lets out in a contented sigh against her cheek. She pulls him in for a tight hug, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She brushes her mouth against his clavicle as he wraps an arm around her small waist.

"Home Alone soundtrack again, huh?" he asks against the soft hum of the music that floats through the kitchen.

She feigns a suffering sigh. "John Williams is a genius."

He huffs a laugh. "That's what I hear."

She pulls out of his embrace to meet his eyes. "From who?"

He rolls his eyes. "You. Every year."

She thumps his chest with a playful flick of her fingers, shaking her head. "It's growing on you. Admit it."

"The children's choir is a bit much, but it's not bad," he concedes.

She wrinkles her nose in distaste. "Oh, what do you know from Christmas music anyway? If I'm not mistaken, I heard you singing Mele Kalikimaka in the shower the other day."

"That song is a classic, Beckett."

"Hawaii at Christmas? Palm trees? No thanks, Castle." She shakes her head.

"I'll remember that next time you're grumbling about the below freezing weather outside."

She glares at him, scrambles for a retort in her head and comes up empty. He grins at her lack of response, presses a patronizing kiss to her cheek.

"You'll win the next one, dear."

* * *

Neither of them feels like cooking, so they munch on the cookies she baked while sipping wine, curled up on the couch. Comfy now in his grey sweatshirt and a pair of leggings, she tucks her feet under one of her old quilts, rests her head on his chest as they stare at the bright glow of the oversized Christmas tree.

"You're lucky I love Christmas," she says.

She feels his low chuckle rumble through his chest. He kisses her head. "Lucky, huh? How do you figure that?"

"Because that tree is ridiculously _huge_, Castle. We could give Clark Griswold a run for his money."

"We are so watching that tomorrow when Alexis gets home."

She smiles, brushing her mouth lovingly over his chest. She loves how excited he gets about a family Christmas. It's infectious, fills her up, makes her want it, too.

Makes her want more.

Lately, she can't stop picturing a family with him. A little boy with his eyes and her smile, bent over a train that circles the entire tree, humming choo-choo noises in his Santa pajamas.

She pictures them in the kitchen together, sprinkling a ridiculous amount of sprinkles on the sugar cookies they baked together. She and Castle would make a special trip to the store to get him a stool, so he could look over the counter and she can kiss his sticky cheeks a little easier.

She can see Castle sneaking him a hot chocolate when they tuck him into bed Christmas Eve, knowing full well that Kate's already made him brush his teeth. She'd smooth her fingers through their little boy's hair while the lull of Castle's voice retelling "The Night Before Christmas" puts him to sleep. She'd slip her hand into her husband's and drag him down the stairs to haul all of his toys from Santa out of their bedroom closet.

She'd lay her partner down a short time later, entice him with festive red lace and a glass of spiked eggnog, knowing all too well that their slumber would be cut short with the excited thumping of slippered feet down the stairs at five in the morning.

"Kate?"

"Hmm?" she hums absentmindedly, shaking the thoughts from her head.

"Did you hear what I said?"

She blushes. "Uh, no. Sorry. You wanna repeat that?"

He laughs. "Something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Not particularly," she jokes. She knows he wants children with her; they talked about it months before they'd gotten married. But then there was that whole mess with her mother's case and-

Well, they'd needed the last four months to focus on their marriage and what they meant to each other. Neither of them wanted to complicate the equation quite yet.

But now-

"Kate," he prods gently, nudging her to meet his eyes.

She sighs, her eyes slipping closed for a brief second. "I just can't help but think about what it would be like." She swallows hard, opens her eyes to meet his curious blue gaze. "A Little Castle running around on Christmas Day," she finishes softly.

His smile takes her breath away. He cradles her face in his hands, leaning down to kiss her tenderly. "I think about it, too," he breathes against her lips.

"Yeah?" she asks, hiding a small smile behind the tug of her lip.

He nods. "I mean, I was picturing a mini Katherine Beckett, but why stop at one, huh?" he teases.

She stutters out a laugh. "One at a time, handsome." She curls her fingers around his ear, sweeping her mouth across his jaw. "Love you," she rasps.

"Oh, Kate," he whispers, sliding his hand to the back of her head to fist her hair gently. His mouth is hot on hers, nipping, gentle. She sighs, her body melting into his as her nimble fingers slip the top buttons of his shirt through their holes. "God, can we start now?" he groans.

She reluctantly pulls away, smoothing her fingers over his lips. "I took the last pill for this month today."

"Don't take it tomorrow." He presses his forehead to hers. "Or any day after that, for that matter."

She lets out a breath, startled and pleased. "You sure?"

"Can you think of a reason why we shouldn't do this?" he asks quietly.

She shakes her head, doesn't need to second-guess herself. "No."

So he wraps his arms around her, listening to her soft sighs as he lays her down to love her under the warm, solid press of his body on a cold winter's night.

* * *

**Love to hear what you think.**

**Liv**


	2. Chapter 2

**A little late with this, but oh well. I'm a little sick of Christmas at this point, but they just had to have a kid.**

**_For Jess, who's always been the biggest champion of my little divorcefic world. Loveyou._  
**

* * *

"Mommy!" the little blue-eyed boy is breathless with happiness as she wraps him up in her arms, pressing a kiss to his sticky cheek.

"Hi baby," she breathes, nudging her nose against his. He giggles, looking adorably rosy in the Santa pajamas Castle had picked out for him weeks before.

"We're baking cookies." Tommy slips his little hand in hers and tugs her into the kitchen where her husband's waiting, spots of flour covering his face, wooden spoon in hand.

"Looks like Daddy's wearing most of it," she teases, smacking a parting kiss to his head as she lifts him easily onto the stool. He immediately snatches up a cookie cutter and goes to work, his small tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.

She lifts her hand to Castle's face, swiping the flour away from his nose with a chuckle. He wraps his fingers around her wrist and tugs her into him, slipping his arms around her waist.

"Hey," he greets her warmly, smudging his thumb against her cheek.

"Hey yourself," she parrots, leaning in for a soft kiss. She hums a little into his lips, warm and loved, her fingers brushing over the skin of his neck. She leans into him as he pulls her into his side, his floured fingers caking the bottom of her black turtleneck.

"How's the little man?" she asks him, her mouth tipping into a grin as she watches their little boy wonder cover his cookie canvass with a shower of colored sprinkles.

"A little cranky when you weren't there to cuddle with him after he woke up from his nap, but good otherwise."

"Did you fill in for me?" she teases.

"I got the job done," he says with a touch of pride. She rolls her eyes, nudging his side.

"Mommy, does Santa Claus come tonight?" Tommy's eyes are bright with hope and excitement that she almost can't bear to extinguish. She considers changing the subject, but she knows she'll only be able to distract him for a minute or two before the question rolls off his tongue again.

"Soon, my man. Two more nights." She holds up two fingers, hopes the visualization will keep his disappointment at bay. At least for now.

He sighs, his whole body heaving with it. "Okay."

She can't help but smile as she cards her fingers through his short brown hair. "It'll be here before you know it. Promise." She bends over so that she's eye-level with him. "And until then," she reaches for a sugar cookie from their first batch, a multi-colored gingerbread man, and takes a bite of his foot, "Your Dad and I have a ton of fun things planned."

She holds the treat out for him. He bites off the other foot, a green shoe. He props his head onto his fist, pondering her words. "Like what?"

She touches her nose to his. "Gotta finish making these cookies for Santa. And Daddy and I promised to take you ice skating tomorrow, remember? And it wouldn't be Christmas without his movie marathon."

He purses his little mouth. "Okay. All three Santa Clauses, though?"

She wrinkles her nose. "But the third one-"

"All three Santa Clauses, buddy," Castle interjects, pressing his lips together to suppress a laugh. She pulls back to throw him a glare.

"I'll raise you 'The Escape Clause' for a 'Grinch,"" she bargains.

Tommy's eyes narrow. He's never been a big fan of the green creature, but it's one of Kate's favorites.

"All right," he draws out. "Three Santa Clauses and a Grinch."

"Don't I get to pick one?" Castle asks, propping himself against the island to rest his chin on his palm in a gesture matching his wife and son's.

"No time in the schedule, I'm afraid," Kate winks at her son. He hides a smile behind his hand.

"Guess we'll have to reevaluate that other marathon then," Castle drops, his hand sliding across the table to slink away. Kate snags one of his belt loops with her fingers and pulls him in for a swift, curling kiss.

"Not a chance," she huffs, her words trailing hotly across his cheek. "Wouldn't want to break tradition."

"_Daaad_," Tommy whines. Castle laughs as his son gently pushes him away, out of their little space.

"Someone wants you all to himself."

"Would that be you or our son, Castle?"

"Touche, Detective."

* * *

They lay in bed that night, a tangle of limbs and sated kisses, listening to the sound of Tommy's deep, slow breaths over the baby monitor, more of a comfort than a necessity anymore.

"Sounds like his cold is mostly gone now," Castle observes, his lips vibrating against her forehead.

She sighs. "Took those antibiotics long enough." He'd been pretty sick the last couple of weeks and they'd both been worried that he'd still be coughing when Christmas Day rolled around. Their sweet boy on his favorite holiday.

"I'm really glad we decided to do this," he blurts out.

She frowns. "Take him to the doctor?"

"No, I mean-" he sighs, a little out of self-deprecation. "I'm glad we had him, Kate."

_oh_.

Her breath hitches in her throat. "You said you wanted-"

He silences her with a soft kiss. "Not what I meant," he murmurs against her lips. "I wasn't sure we'd make it here," he confesses.

She palms the side of his face as his forehead falls to hers. He doesn't know, but-

It still scares her. She still thinks about it. Almost losing their life together. Falling down again, some other way.

But he hasn't left her side since.

She tugs on her lip. "I wasn't sure we would either, Castle," she admits. "But I'm glad we did."

* * *

_Complete_


End file.
